


Unmentioned Memories

by WhiffleWaffles



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Adventure, And colonial times, Because Biblical Names, Burgess, But I think it is just a nickname, Childhood Memories, Colonial Pennsylvania, Colony, Family, Flee Overland, Flee is confirmed, Gen, Human Jack, I think her real name would be Mary, Just writing for fun, Memories, Mentioned Guardians, The Golden Age, The Overland Family, and basically told it to go away, and then i remembered it, and thought, brother-sister bonding, but then I lost that account, i dunno, meow, ok, was fanfiction.net, why not post it here?, yea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9523403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiffleWaffles/pseuds/WhiffleWaffles
Summary: Jack Frost, the Guardian of Fun, wasn't always the winter spirit. The 1700s were a rough time but Jackson Overland, a fourteen year old boy, made the most of it. Through the hardships of moving, sickness, and death, and the golden light of fun and pranks, stories, and sitting by the fire hanging up the stockings before Christmas. A series of oneshots, prompts, and drabbles that tell us the story of our beloved winter spirit Jack Frost before he became a Guardian.*Rewritten.*Updated first chapter on 12.23.2017, expect more chapters soon, friends. :)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Old work I did. Revisited but I don't think it's perfect. Credit at the end notes. Please leave kind, constructive criticism or a kudos. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by the comic called Counting Sheep, a deviantART multi-page comic posted awhile ago.
> 
> Six year old Flee can't seem to fall asleep that night. Something was missing, and she swore that something whispered her name from under her bed. It isn't until then that she notices her beloved stuff fox toy, Mr. Rogan, is gone. Thank God her older brother Jack can save her and find Mr. Rogan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: updated this as I watch the Bachelor, screw Corine. Privileged....and rude. Thank God he picked Taylor!  
> There'll be more chapters if requested. I hope you'll leave kind constructive criticism, or even a kudos. This is my first ever published story on here, and I cross-posted it from an ANCIENT fanfiction account.

It was the golden silence and hard work of the day that lulled Jackson Overland to sleep. The houses of his fellow neighbors were almost pitch black, and the chill of the summer nights wind was welcoming to some of the citizens of the small town in Burgess. Not a single house had a lantern or candle lit and the darkness embraced the tiny homes as the crickets sang their little tunes and people slept, warm and happy in their beds surrounded by loved ones.

Although Burgess was a small town, it welcomed people from all over the world. Everyone worked, lived, and prayed under the promise of a happy life. The homes were built nearly on top of each other and privacy wasn't much of a consideration, even if it were valued there was plenty of places to go for it. Nonetheless, the village lived in harmony and were there for each other during the good, and the bad, times that life on the new land tossed at them.

Twelve year old Jack had just fallen asleep from the long day of herding sheep, chopping firewood, and patching the damaged roof over their heads. His head had fallen into his pillow and he had draped his blanket rather clumsily up over his knees before he could tuck himself in and get comfortable, he fell asleep. His mother had gone for the night and left the mischievous, yet caring, boy in charge. He had locked up the livestock, had served himself and Flee their dinner, and had tucked her in with a kiss to her cheek.

It only seemed like a minute of sleep ticked by before the familiar voice of his six year old sister, if not completely, woke him up.

"Jack...." a mere, fragile whisper.

He didn't budge, too exhausted to even consider uttering a word. 

"Jack!" 

Her voice was desperate this time. "Hmm..." he muttered into his pillow, not getting a look at Flee's quivering shadow that was cloaked in her own blanket, too big and too heavy that some of it draped on the floor like a long ball gown seen in pictures of fairy tales. 

"JACK!" it was the last time and he finally popped his head up.  

Gathering some strength through the sleepy haze, he propped himself up onto his thin elbows and rubbed the gunk of sleep from his eyes to find himself face-to-face with her chocolate brown eyes. He would've jumped back at the closeness but his clouded mind didn't care for judgement at the ungodly hour.  

His voice was thick, "Hmm...what's wrong, Flee?" 

She didn't peep until the wind rattled outside and startled her, "I can't sleep." she admitted, cheeks flushed with slight embarrassment, "Can you sleep in bed with me?" she pleaded, holding her blanket over her head as if it were a hood to shelter her from the blazing hot or humid rain. Too tired to even acknowledge the fear in her eyes and desperate plead of help in her voice, his head fell back onto his pillow. 

She would fall asleep, eventually. She always did. 

"Hey!" she yelped. She put her hands on his shoulder and nudged him. 

"Count sheep." he mumbled, not moving a single inch. 

"It doesn't work!" she declared stubbornly.  

"It _always_ works." 

The girl settled into a tense silence as she forgot about her blanket and held onto his bed post instead. She bounced on the tips of her feet, shivering slightly at the cold in the room. Even in the middle of the summer Pennsylvania still had rather cold nights if not hot afternoons. 

Even though he couldn't see her with his head shoved into the darkness of a pillow he felt her gaze focused on him. Groaning, he cracked his shoulders as he once more lifted his face up from the warmth, which was escaping, from his pillow. "Why not, Flee?" 

"Because..." she tapped her fingers and held them together anxiously, "I can't find Mr. Rogan." 

_Greeeeat_.

The little red fox their mother had spent eight months crafting during her pregnancy with the second Overland child. Therefore, she never parted with the stuffed toy and even when she was younger she took the fox with her and gave him a seat on her lap during supper. It was a habit she thankfully broke before she attended school. 

She never slept without it tucked in her arms at night and she had never lost it, either.

Expect, maybe once. Could you even count it as being lost? Her little blonde friend, Lauren O'Brien, had a snotty freckle-nosed cousin who seemed to be a menace to all kids, boy or girl, younger or older then he himself, it didn't matter the consequences; had snatched it from her hands and threw it up in the air as Lauren told him to give it back and Flee danced around him, arms stretched as far as they would go, to rescue her beloved toy. She never took it out in public again and hid it from sight during daylight.

How was it possible to lose him in such a small bedroom anyway? A desk, a mirror and two small beds with a nightstand? A single window illuminated the wooden planks of the floor with a happy glow and speckles of dust danced around in the air but he saw no Mr. Rogan. Just his frightened sister. 

"Count sheep without him." he suggested. "We'll find him tomorrow, OK? I pinkie promise." 

Her jaw dropped and her doe-eyes got even wider, if possible. Was he insane? How could she go a second, much less an entire night, without him!? She had never slept without him. Never ever. "I can't! And...and..and..." she stumbled on her words, scatter-brained, "I heard something!" she gestured to her bed in the corner, on the other side of the room parallel to Jack's own bed. "Under my bed!" she finished, gasping for air. 

"It must be the boogeyman." 

He was too tired to even realize his mistake as she froze like the statue in the middle of town. 

The boogeyman took Mr. Rogan! What if he took her, too? 

Seemingly unsure what to do or say as she bit her lips and shivered at the seemingly endless summer draft, she began to hull herself onto Jack's bed, one leg dangling on the floor limply as she huffed and puffed until her face was cherry red. 

"Mmm...what are you doing?" 

"P-please, Jack. He...he's under my bed!" 

"I was joking." 

The look on her red face was clear - she didn't believe him. Her nose scrunched up as she tried to finish her climb. 

"He's going to eat me, though!" 

"He doesn't do that..." he shot back, wanting to slap his own mouth as he only seemed to feed her with fearful lies.

"How do you know? You said he didn't exist!" 

Jackson's temper finally broke. 

"Okay, enough." she nodded timidly, her doe-brown eyes alert. "You're going to wake up the whole entire village!" he whispered, noticing the cold-sweat on her face and realizing she was, in fact, terrified. He felt regret and guilt nip at his soul. But he was so tired. His judgement wasn't on point.

He cleared his throat, "Look...I'm suppose to be babysitting you since we're alone tonight, and I had a really hard day." he said, and proceeded to elaborate "I've been chopping wood since before sunrise, then I took the herd up to the mountain which is a two hour walk in the summer sun, without including the time I've spent up there and then ran down to finish the repairs on our roof." he sighed in exhaustion, rubbing his temples. "In short, I'm really _really_ tired." 

Flee whimpered in response and her eyes grew watery every passing second before she collapsed to the floor in a fetal position and rocked herself. "I'm sorry..." she repeated, over and over again as tears dripped onto the white nightgown and the floor, little blobs of water absorbing into the dry wood.

He winced as his mind began to clear and his heart thumped in his chest with guilt. He never scolded his sister before and didn't like to see the tears _he_ had caused. He wasn't Flee, and he wasn't six years old; she was still growing up, still just a little girl in a small town without a father figure and a mother who worked too hard. He sat up and hefted her up from the floor to sit on his lap. She cried into his shirt, her sobs muffled and his tunic becoming wet with salty tears.

"All right!" he grinned, looking down at her lovingly as she curled further into his arms. Her eyes locked with his for a mere second, and even though tears were still present she seemed to have calmed down and took interest. "Let's go see what's under the bed!" he flashed his teeth, and she clutched onto his night tunic as he stumbled upright and placed her onto the sunken spot of his bed. He picked up her blanket that had piled up on the floor and washed it over her, doubling up on the warmth with both wool covers.

He stood up, lanky and straight like a rod as he strode over to her bed. Flee gasped in panic, "Bu-but Jack!" 

Jack shook his head, waving her off with false-bravo "It's fine!" he said, "I once chased a wild dog away. Compared, the boogeyman would be a piece of cake!" he proposed, getting down on his knees and lifting the sheets that had draped onto the floor. 

"Be careful." she whispered, sitting with her hands clutching the blanket around her head.

"Oh, c'mon!" he grinned, chuckling as he looked back at her from over his shoulder, before turning his attention under the bed. "You don't really believe the boogeyman is..." he paused, "here..."

His voice trailed off and Flee stood up on his bed with panic, "Wha...what's wrong?" 

"OH MY GOD!" his scream of terror jolted Flee's heart from her small chest and she squealed as his arm was dragged further under the bed into the clutches of the boogeyman. She knew he existed! She _knew_ it! He lied to her and know the boogeyman would take Jack and she'd be all alone if she weren't next.

"JACK!" 

"DON'T COME!"

She dove back into a fetal position on his bed, holding the blanket over his entire being and shoving her face into his pillow as she whimpered and cried. "Sto-" his voice cut off and she timidly glanced over as she heard his heavy breathing, even though she told herself not to, at the supposed space that her brother used to occupy, to find that instead, he was still there. Alive. 

In fact, he was beaming with a chuckle and his hand held her Mr. Rogan. Her mouth dropped open as she got up and scurried over to him, pillow clutched in her hands as she smacked him with it over and over again with all her little might. "You silly!" 

"Hahaha!" he laughed, holding his hands up to his face to protect him from her wrath, "I can't believe you fell for that!" 

She stopped and dropped the pillow to the floor as she took Mr. Rogan from his hand, hopped up onto the bed and held the fox to her face, snuggling him like a mother would with her child. "How could you? I was really scared." her voice cracked as if to prove it even more. 

"Oh c'mon!" he beckoned her to look at him, hand on her cheek as she led it up "I told you the boogeyman does not exist I was just joking!" 

She didn't respond but looked up at him from the corner of her eyes. 

"Besides, I got you back Mr. Rogan, didn't I?" 

"Well, it wasn't funny," she mused, "Don't do it again." 

"OK! I'm sorry," he rubbed his neck in shame, standing there with the moonlight casting his shadow, "I won't do it ever again!" he promised.

The look of guilt rubbed off onto the girl and she smiled shyly, "Pinkie promise?" and, giving him her pinkie, he promised. She hugged him from around his waste and held onto him tightly, and he returned the hug as the two remained in each others arms. 

"Thank you for saving Mr. Rogan."

"Saving?" 

"From the boogeyman." she yelped, as if it were obvious. 

"Oh no problem, I would have fought a dragon for my princess." 

He sneaked a few tickles under her armpit and belly as he spoke, emitting giggles of glee from her as she breathed out for him to stop. He did, and then he pulled himself up in bed and laid down as she snuggled next to him like old times, before he had received his own bed. 

His eyes fluttered shut within a few minutes of silence, and when he thought his sister had fallen asleep herself her small voice reached his mid-conscious state. 

"Tell me a story, please?" 

He sighed and turned onto his side to look at her sleepy eyes as she snuggled with her fox. "Once upon a time, there were dragons in a far off land known as night furies. A little Viking boy would meet this night fury," she yawned, eyelashes fluttering, but he continued in a whisper "And become best friends..." 

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter inspired from Counting Sheep, a comic book found on Google. I give full credit to them. I will delete if needed.  
> I was motivated to write about Jack as a human and boy of the colonial age, seeing how I love history. 
> 
> I found an imagine a long time ago, and if this website would allow cover photos this would be it.  
> Supposed Cover Image- https://ffcdn2012t-fictionpressllc.netdna-ssl.com/image/1058527/180/


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